December Underground
by SilverSkin
Summary: Years after the war Severus Snape receives a visit from Hermione and she is demanding answers, just where was he all this time? Why was he missing for three years? And how did he get back? HGSS AU. Rated M for a reason.
1. Chapter 1

**December Underground.**

**I**

'_This is what I thought, _

_I thought you'd need me,_

_This is what I thought,_

_So think me naïve.'_

_-Prelude 12/21_

He didn't expect to hear a knock on his door this late at night, let alone at all. Most people had learned over the last few months that he'd rather be alone.

People only really saw him when he taught. Other than that he took his meals in his chambers and wasn't seen around the castle. Except by those unfortunate few who broke curfew on Mondays and Thursdays.

"Who is it?" He asked.

"Certainly not someone you expect." A familiar voice answered.

His lip curling, her went to the door and opened it. A young witch of slender frame and attractive build was waiting outside, her hair as out of control as ever.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, hearing the sneer in his own voice.

"They told me that you'd locked yourself away down here." She said, avoiding his question and inviting herself into his office. "I thought I'd come see for myself if you'd really forgone human contact."

He ignored her jibing tone and closed the door.

"I don't remember inviting you in." He said coldly.

"You know, I can remember a time when I didn't need an invitation to come visit you." She replied, her tone just as icy.

"Well that was before Weasley, wasn't it _Miss_ Granger?" He snapped. Hermione frowned.

"That's neither here nor there and is definitely not why I'm here." She said while helping herself to a seat at his desk.

"Well its' definitely somewhere in between and quite frankly I couldn't give a damn about why you're here if my fate depended on it." He walked past her, purposefully refusing to sit with her and began to put away the books he had been perusing.

"You know, you can't hide from me down here forever." Hermione said, her voice flat.

He placed a book on a shelf and snorted with disdain.

"I am most certainly not hiding from you. If I was do you think I would have let you in?" His voice was a sarcastic drawl.

She sighed in annoyance and he spared her a sidelong glance. She was as attractive as ever, especially since, with the way her legs were crossed, her thigh was peeking out from under her skirt.

"You can't blame me Severus." She said, her tone trying to reason with him.

"It's Snape, Granger." He snapped. She rolled her eyes and he went back to placing his tomes onto their shelves.

"How could you possibly blame me?" She asked the question this time instead of just saying it.

He ignored her.

"I thought you were dead." She added, as if this explained everything.

"Did you ever see a body?" Once again a sneer covered his voice.

"No, but you were missing so I had to assume that you were gone."

"Assuming is only good for making an ass of your self. I came back."

"After three years! Did you honestly expect me to wait three years after the final battle for you to come back?" She asked without hesitation. Obviously Hermione had planned this conversation long before she had gathered the courage to execute it.

"Without a body or a witness you had no reason to think me dead. I returned as soon as I could." He growled, placing the last book onto it's shelf and relenting into sitting across from her at the desk.

"Severus obviously you resent the fact that I was seeing Charlie when you returned but that's no reason to lock yourself away in the dungeons only coming out for nothing more than teaching and round for over seven months! You didn't even come out for Christmas!"

"Snape!" He snapped again when she called him by his given name. "an what I choose to do is no concern of yours, Weasley might get jealous." He snarled.

"Weasley can do whatever the hell he wants; we broke up over four months ago." She snarled back.

Snape regarded her with mixed curiosity, for the first time in the evening his interest was piqued.

"Why are you here Granger?" He asked.

"Hermione." She corrected.

"Granger." He repeated more forcefully this time. She rolled her eyes.

"If you choose what I get to call you then I choose what you call me."

"True but you failed to acquiesce to my request so I will continue to call you Granger." He shot back. At this point their argument was beginning to become quite heated.

"Fine then, Snape, call me Granger."

"Nice try." He quipped. "Reverse psychology doesn't work on me, I'm a legilimens, remember?"

"Is it that hard to just call me Hermione?" She asked as if she could not believe how difficult he was being.

"Why are you here?" He repeated, once again sidestepping the issue.

"I thought that maybe if someone came down and offered you some company then you might stop being such a shut in." Her voice was oddly suspicious.

"No, you thought that if you came down here you might have a chance of coercing me back into your clutches." He said, quite matter-of-factly.

"Don't say it like that and stop doing that." She warned, knowing tha the was reading the forefront of her mind.

"So you don't deny it?" he questioned.

She didn't answer.

"Well if you expect me to welcome you back and forget all old scorns in an instant you're incredibly naïve."

"You think I'm that foolish? I don't expect everything to be well with a snap of my fingers." She said while performing the action. "I did think that we could at least attempt some form of reconciliation.

"You sound exactly like a textbook. It's good to see that besides abandoning me nothing has changed." He said words stinging like a wasp.

Hermione breathed a sigh of exasperation and rubbed a hand across her brow.

"Why don't we put petty insults aside?" She suggested.

"I suppose we could do that before I end up being called the ever so clever _greasy git,_ that one never gets old." He drawled.

"Can I ask you one thing? There's just one thing I want to know from you."

"What?" He barely grunted.

"Why did it take you three years to return once Voldemort was defeated?"


	2. Chapter 2

**December Underground**

**II**

'_All the same, I remain_

_The one to blame and I'm_

_Demonized, purified, justified_

_As you let yourself show.'_

_-Kill Caustic._

Severus watched Hermione with calculating eyes. He wouldn't say that he hadn't expected this. He knew that she'd eventually want an explanation but truthfully he had expected Hermione to seek him out sooner. He supposed that Weasley was to blame for her initial absence, at least the first four months worth anyway.

He'd also suspected, more hoped really, that the more time that went by the less likely she would be to seek him out. Her current presence had put a stopper in that hypothesis' phial.

"Why should I tell you?" He asked, he was no longer bothering to keep up his scornful attitude, his resentment had sunk into a cold exterior and the usual _'I could care less'_ silky tones.

"I'm guessing because I asked isn't a good enough reason for you." She too had passed the point of high voiced accusations; her tone actually seemed quite bored.

"No it's not, how do I know that you aren't employed by the prophet or some other tabloid?" He didn't labor to keep the accusation from his voice.

"Why would I be employed by the press?" She asked, genuinely confused.

"Because I utilized my right to a private trial and kept the prophet out of the courtroom. Naturally they'd be after more information when the only thing they were allowed to print was an unexplained declaration of my innocence." He finished his lengthy explanation with a raised brow, only remembering afterward that she had liked it when he'd done that and quickly dropped it.

"The news never explained your innocence?" She asked with disbelief.

"No." He replied curtly. "And as a consequence I remain seen as the murderer of Albus Dumbledore who got off Scot free. The wizarding community probably believes I took a page out of Malfoy's book and offered them copious amounts of gold. He finished dryly.

"But you killed Dumbledore on his orders, and he was going to die anyway from destroying the ring." Hermione objected.

"Yes." He agreed. "You are in the order and that's the only reason that you know that." He reminded her.

"So you're letting the public blacken your name like they did Voldemort." For the second time she spoke with disbelief.

"There is a difference. I am not demonized like he was. I am simply a disliked man, not a feared monster."

"But how could you let people think those things about you?" She argued.

"Since when have I cared what others think? Surely you know me better than that?" his tone was mocking.

"You weren't on Voldemort's side, that's something that people should know instead of thinking that you hid for three years and then wormed your way out of imprisonment." He had always hated arguing with her, she was so resolute.

"If only that had been an option." He remarked snidely.

She sighed, an over expressed, annoying habit of hers.

"Are you going to explain this to me or keep fighting me at every turn?" She was tired of beating around the bush.

"Give me a good reason." He quipped.

"How about I was worried sick because I loved you when you disappeared?" She shot back. He found no words to say and fixed her with a steely glare.

He had never been one to express love and couldn't remember ever telling her that he loved her although she had told him several times. It just wasn't something that he didand now he wondered why.

Despite this fact he knew that what she said was in definitely a good enough reason and he couldn't deny her an explanation.

"Fine, but not here, we don't know how many students have their ears pressed against the door." He said curtly before rising and heading towards his adjacent chambers.

She followed him but didn't need his lead; she'd been here before as well. She proved this by sitting on his leather sofa without asking permission. Her eyes were expectant as she watched him and she seemed to know that if she pressed the matter he would become irritated.

He took his time warding the door with the wand he'd had for less than a year before heading towards the sitting area. He didn't sit with her on the sofa but across from her on the two-seater.

"If you're expecting a tale of complicated heroism and valiant antics you shouldn't kid yourself." He warned.

She looked as if she might retort but instead bit her lip and waited. Severus decided to give her a brief version of what had happened.

"After the Dark Lord was killed, those death eaters who had discovered during the battle that I was in fact helping Potter saw it fit to take me with them as they fled. I was smuggled into Russia, outside of the ministry's jurisdiction and beyond where anyone would recognize me.

"When they got me to one of the Dark Lord's former hideouts they threw me in the basement. I'm nearly one hundred percent sure they snapped my wand. Whenever they thought I deserved it they took it in turns to torture me."

"Crucio?" Hermione asked. She looked terrified and Severus felt strangely pleased. He shook his head.

"They couldn't use magic or the ministry would track them despite being outside of jurisdiction. They had to resort to more primitive forms of torture." He let his sentence hang in the air. For several moments she didn't say anything.

"Surely anything is better than a crucio?" she asked timidly once she had gathered her wits. He fixed her with a level gaze.

"A crucio is more painful, but at least the relief from the curse is immediate. A crucio doesn't throb afterward like bamboo torture does."

Hermione closed her eyes as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing and Severus imagined a time when she would have done it out of concern.

"How can the ministry call what they've given you justice?" She asked, her voice shaking.

"They don't claim it to be." He said simply.

"But that's not fair!"

"Not everything is meant to be justified."

"But you deserve better than unexplained innocence and universal hatred! You should be respected!" She spoke as I the idea of anything other than these things was ludicrous.

"I neither need nor want those things. I don't expect my situation to suddenly upgrade to that of the tormented _'chosen one'_ or _'boy who lived.'_ I don't need people gawking at me everywhere I go like they do him or you for that matter. I certainly don't need to let myself show for the good of the wizarding community." He speeled off. His voice was snappish and irritated.

"No but I think basic recognition would be enough!" She snapped back.


	3. Chapter 3

**December Underground**

**III**

'_Listen. I kissed the lies_

_Why must they be so kissable?'_

_-Summer Shudder_

"I don't expect what I know I will never receive." His voice was suddenly gloomy.

"That's why you don't get any recognition; you let them pass you over." She said this as if she were a mother explaining something to a child that had been told the same ideology many times before. Severus' lip curled at the thought.

"I have no choice, I can't force people to thank me and I don't want to hear it from them anyway." How many times would he have to stress this point?

"You know, not everyone would need to be forced into thanking you. You should take Harry, Ron and I as proof." She said with confidence.

"Well that's an excellent argument considering you the only one who ever thanked me or even mention the subject for that matter." He countered.

"What?" She proclaimed with shock. "Harry and Ron never-"

"No. You honestly expected them to thank me, their most hated professor, for protecting them by murdering their idol and leading them to believe that they had to waste energy trying to kill me while they should have been focusing on the Dark Lord? Not bloody likely." He snorted.

"I can't believe those two!" They told me that they would _'have to thank you.'" _She seemed genuinely outraged and it intrigued him.

"And of course, you most likely kissed the lies and welcomed the charade?" He again raised a brow in question, this time remembering all too well that she liked it when he did that. She certainly seemed to notice.

"I guess I expect too much good from people." She surmised.

"People often expect from others what they are themselves." He pointed out, hoping that she wouldn't notice the unintentional compliment. If she did she didn't show it.

"I still don't think this is what you deserve."

"You're probably the only one, except for Minerva, but you'll soon learn that life isn't the fairy tale we're all raised to think that it should be." For the first time since she arrived his voice was its normal, expressionless baritone.

"Obviously not." She scoffed, picking at her nails.

Severus watched her in silence, remembering her as the thought that had saved him from sinking into insanity during his stay in the Death Eaters' make shift gulag. He looked away when he remembered the day he found out about her engagement to Charlie. Maybe if he had told her his feelings she would have waited longer.

"How did you manage to last three years being repeatedly tortured?" She asked after a moment's silence. It was apparent that her need to know everything had not left her.

"They fed me." He said simply. "They didn't want me to die of course; frequently they reminded me that death was too good for me. Luckily they would occasionally forget about me for days at a time. Then I could rest."

"How did you keep from going insane?" She asked, how could she possibly still have that shocked expression? He chose to ignore the question.

"You've gotten the one thing you wanted form me, now it's my turn." He said, suddenly finding that there was something he needed to know.

"What?" She asked, looking wary.

"Why, Weasley?" He asked bluntly. Hermione visibly stiffened at the question.

"I don't think something that personal is of any relevance." She said sternly.

"I believe my story was far more personal than yours." He pointed out calmly, yelling and being snide wasn't the way to get information out of her. He had to abandon that tactic for the present moment.

"I don't see why it is of any importance." She said rather evasively.

"I think I deserve to know why you chose the man that you left me for. Since you claim that I deserve all of these other things I think you can give me that." Again his voice was calm.

Hermione remained still for a moment, once again picking her nails with the most minute of movements. After a long pause and a heavy sigh she finally decided on her choice of words.

"There was no reason really. It was just a prospect." She sounded timid and Severus thought that she might be embarrassed but he pressed on.

"Of?" he asked.

"Convenience."

"A prospect of convenience?"

"Yes."

"How so?" She took a deep breath, as if she were deciding whether she should answer before she spoke.

"He is a nice man, I already know his family. No one would give me the silent treatment for a week like they did when they discovered our relationship. He was… kissable." She listed.

"Did you love him?" He asked, not caring that it was unorthodox.

"No." She responded immediately. "Not like I did you."

Severus was on the brink of asking if she still loved him when she hastily changed the subject.

"How did you escape from Russia? Did the Death Eaters let you go?" He shook his head, not sure if he welcomed this change of topic.

"After a while the Death Eaters began to use magic again. Thankfully they didn't use it on me. It seems they'd grown to like their new form of torture." His lip curled for a moment before he continued. "When the ministry registered their location they contacted the Russian ministry and apprehended them. Since I was a prisoner they were bound by law to bring me back to England under the status of P.O.W. Besides that my trial and my decree of innocence are all that's left of the story." Hermione nodded to show that she understood.

"I guess that's it then." She said; her voice hollow. "It was nice seeing you." Severus looked for a lie in this as she rose to leave but couldn't find one. She was nearly to the door when he called to her.

"Wait."


	4. Chapter 4

**December Underground**

**IV**

'_For a change_

_I'll refrain from_

_hiding all of me_

_from you.'_

_-The Interveiw._

When she paused and turned to face him she looked wary.

"What is it?" She asked.

"Surely that's not all that you want to know." Her brows furrowed in bewilderment as he said this and smirked at her confusion.

"Why are you suddenly offering me answers when I had to practically drag what I already found out of you?" She asked suspicion evident in her voice.

"I'll refrain from hiding everything from you if you meet my conditions." He said curtly.

"What conditions?" She asked her eyes narrowed.

"That you do the same." He said simply, absentmindedly scratching his forearm. Her eyes traveled to the movement and he hastily stopped, knowing full well that she was wondering about his dark mark.

"Why do you care? Why ask now?" She questioned.

"I was gone for three years Miss. Granger, there are certain things I'd like to know." Was his explanation.

"So you suggest that we trade questions?"

"Precisely, do you agree?"

"Only on a condition of my own." She demanded. There was a pause between them, he didn't like the circumstances in an agreement to be set by anyone other than himself but the gain outweighed the risk if it would only keep her here a little longer.

"What condition?" He asked. Hermione hesitated but her response was in no way bashful.

"That you call me Hermione, not Granger, or Miss Granger, just Hermione." She said this very seriously, quickly adding; "And I get to call you Severus." Her face was resolute.

Severus purposefully paused for dramatic effect before granting a simple nod. He could do that, after all, he'd called her Hermione quite regularly before the final battle. She made her way to the sofa.

"Who goes first?"

"Since we're in my rooms and this was my idea it would only be natural for me to go first." He concluded pointedly.

"Ask away then." She snapped, sounding annoyed. He shot her a disdainful look before settling on a question that he had actually wondered about.

"How did Arthur Weasley die?" A brief pained expression crossed her face before she regained her composure.

"He was electrocuted playing with his stupid muggle plugs." She sounded resentful, as if the idea that something from her original world killing a dear friend was simply hateful.

He concentrated on this, it explained why Minerva had told him Arthur had passed but had briskly walked away before he could ask her how. Dying like that would be a great strain on the man's reputation. Now that the query was answered however, he could now avert his attention to questioning the woman in front of him. Too bad it was her turn.

"Why do you hate Harry?" He thought she might ask something lie this.

"I don't need a reason to hate the boy but I could offer you several. He is arrogant, unappreciative, and ignorant; the list goes on from there." His voice was callous at eh mention of the _boy who lived. _"What was the extent of the relationship you had with Charlie Weasley?"

"Why do you care?" She countered.

"That is not how this works." He reminded her.

"I don't see why you need to know-"

"Answer the question."

"Well we didn't have sex if that's what you mean. He wanted to save it for after we were married." She snapped, turning a delicate shade of pink. He smirked triumphantly.

"Did you love Lily Evans?" The smirk fell to a frown.

"Not precisely."

"You have to be more specific than that." She said, most likely figuring that if he could force an answer then so could she.

"We had a brief relationship, I bedded her if that's what you mean, but once Potter started punishing me for speaking to her I didn't stick around long. There was no lasting devotion between the two of us." If she was startled by this information or even pleasantly confirmed she didn't show it. Severus got the sinking feeling that she somehow understood that if there had been no James Potter, Lily would most likely have been married to him right now.

"How long did you wait for me?"

"A year." She said rather bluntly, and then suddenly sat a little straighter as if something had crossed her mind.

"The ministry informed the public that Death Eaters' dark marks had disappeared. What happened to them?"

"They burned off." He said simply as he undid the buttons on his sleeve and began to roll up the cloth. She moved from the sofa to sit next to him on the two-seater. She gasped when he rolled the sleeve back far enough to expose the patch of white skin where it looked as if his flesh had boiled. "When the Dark Lord died, this enchantment ended and the mark burned away." He explained. She cautiously ran a finger over his scar tissue and he had a moment of indecision before reflexively pulling his arm away and unrolling his sleeve. There was a long silence as he objected whether or not he should ask his next question.

"Why didn't you try to find me?" He asked, searching her face for an answer. The room was suddenly dead still and she looked teary eyed.

"I waited a year. When you didn't return after that I had to accept that you weren't coming back." She said feebly.

"You never thought to look for me?" She didn't notice that he had now asked two questions in a row.

"I thought you were dead, everyone did, even McGonagall." It was a weak explanation.

"Without a body there was no reason to think that I was deceased."

"Sirius Black is dead and he didn't leave a body behind." She snapped, getting irritated.

"We are not speaking of Sirius Black." He said, a sneer flitting over his face. "You must have a better explanation other than you thought I was dead."

"You promised that you would come back to me. What else was I to think?" She was crying now.

"I wasn't able to return to you, but I would have searched for your body had the tables been turned." He tried to keep the sneer out of his voice this time, she didn't need to cry more.

"Well you don't accept things like others do. You're too stubborn for your own food. Had the entire world believed me dead you still would have kept looking. How can you possibly be so stubborn in the face of common truth?"

"I'm persistent, not stubborn; I know when something is amiss."

"Well had I known something was amiss I would have searched for you."

"Do you love me still?" He asked, finally hitting the head of the nail that he had been beating around for minutes.

She nodded, tears still sliding silently down her cheeks.

"Yes." Her voice was little more than a whisper. "Did you ever love me?"


	5. Chapter 5

**December Underground**

**V**

'_She wanted love,_

_I taste of blood,_

_she bit my lip _

_and drank my war _

_from years before.'_

_-Love Like Winter._

In a single moment he cupped her face in his hands and drew her lips to his. She responded to his kiss eagerly, as if she starving for it like a desert starves for water.

His hands came away from her cheeks wet with her tears and ran through her hair so that he could cradle her head properly and kiss her deeper. She moved closer to him on the small two-seater and splayed her hands over his chest.

"He groaned with satisfaction into her mouth as their combined breathing became heavy until he finally had to break the kiss and catch his breath. His hands were no longer in her hair but had traveled to lie on her back. She was leaning against and somehow his arm had ended up around her.

Her chocolate brown eyes were looking straight into his coal black ones and for once he found it better to wonder what she was thinking rather than read it for him self.

"That didn't answer my question." She said quietly.

"What more do you want?" The question wasn't snide but completely sincere.

"I want to hear you say it, throughout our entire relationship you never once said that you loved me." He could tell by the look in her eyes that it was a genuine request; he didn't need legilimens to see that. "Please."

"I can't- I've never- I just can't." He looked away form her and detangled himself from her. An awkward silence followed his statement.

"You've never told someone that you love them, is that it?" She asked.

"No." He said bluntly.

"Why not?" He didn't know how she kept the question from annoying him.

"I just don't, it's not something that I do."

"How do you expect people to know that you care for them if you don't tell them. How do you think I felt never hearing you say that you love me?" She was annoyed now and removed her lingering hand from his chest. The spot where it had been felt cold.

"You should have known." He said matter of fact.

"How would I just know?" She scoffed.

"Someone of your intelligence should have been able to figure out that I wouldn't cook for or share a bed with someone that I didn't care for. Do you think I'd let someone I was toying with live in my chambers with me?" He asked. She rolled her eyes.

"That is not the point."

"Then what is?"

"The point is that some of these things have to be said." She argued, full of self assurance.

"Then how does a mute person say it?" He asked, raising a brow.

"Don't get smart."

"I've always been smart." He said smugly.

"Why can't you just say it?" She asked.

"Not all things have to be said. You can deduce it for yourself." He said with a tone of finality that did not stop her form continuing.

"Severus, I need to hear you say it."

"Hermione, you only need to hear it because you are selfish."

"Selfish? You know what, you couldn't say it if you wanted to."

"I could but I won't."

"Why not?"

"Because, you are using reverse psychology."

She growled in exasperation.

"How am I the selfish one when you won't tell me if you ever loved me?

"Because only selfish people force others into doing or admitting things that are for their own personal gain." He explained.

Hermione was silent as she considered his point. He couldn't help but notice the way that she worried her lip while she thought. He should have kept kissing her instead of fueling this stupid argument.

"Then how am I ever supposed to know?" She asked, nearly at the point of resignation. He studied her, contemplating his options, knowing that if he gave the wrong answer she would leave. He would keep her here as long as possible if he could.

"Ask me sincerely and I'll answer." He finally decided. She stared into his eyes, searching for something, perhaps truth before she spoke.

"Did you love me?"

"Yes." He confirmed. Her gaze intensified.

"Do you love me?" She was whispering as if she expected the worst. He hesitated, if he answered now, there would be no going back, if he told her the truth she'd know forever.

"Yes."

This time she was the one to kiss him and he quickly pulled her into his lap so that she straddled him while their tongues met and explored one another. Her hands explored the flat expanse of his chest while his roamed from her hips to her sides and back again.

As the kiss roughened she bit his lip and he grunted at the taste of blood form the minor wound before breaking away and trailing kisses down her neck while hse leaned her head back.

"Why did you really come tonight?" He mumbled into her skin. She pressed her hands to the back of his neck to encourage him to continue his trail of kisses which he did most willingly.

"I told you." She breathed, leaning into his touch.

"Remind me." He pressed continuing to nip and kiss at her neck as he drew closer to her ear.

"Because, I love you." She moaned.

"I thought so." He growled, returning to her mouth to kiss her deeply. When they broke apart he looked her dead in the eyes.

"I missed this." He said simply.

"What's this?" She asked with a saucy smirk on her face.

"Being with you."


	6. Chapter 6

**December Underground**

**VI**

'_Lover, I am loveless._

_Red days and burning might_

_bleed till the faceless die._

_Oh, lover, I am lonely,_

_were you holding hands_

_when my wrists bled?'_

_-Affliction._

For the first time since he'd know her she was speechless. She leaned against him and tucked her head under his chin, resting fully against him.

He tilted his head so that his cheek rested against the crown of her head against her bushy hair that smelled of oranges and cinnamon.

"Why didn't you ever send me a letter after you got back, or even come visit?" She asked, her voice mumbling into his robes.

"I figured that you wouldn't appreciate my intrusion." He noticed that his voice resonating against her skull caused her to tremble.

"We could have kept contact, it's not like we couldn't have been friends."

"I'm sure Weasley would have loved it when your death eater ex-lover stopped by for a visit." Despite the sarcastic opportunities this remark presented Severus' voice remained neutral.

"But you're not a death eater anymore." She argued.

"I doubt he would have seen it that way." He pointed out.

"I suppose it doesn't matter now." She concluded, heaving a sigh before sitting up. "Did it hurt when your mark burned off?" She asked, her face full of concern.

"Of course." He said. She searched his face before tentatively pulling his hand into hers and rolling up his sleeve. He let her do this, watching as she exposed the white scar tissue and disfigured flesh.

"Did it bleed?" She asked curiously.

"Yes." He answered truthfully. She gazed at the marred flesh for a silent moment before her brow furrowed and she moved to roll his sleeve further up his arm.

Instinctively he recoiled and pulled his arm away but she captured it and looked into his eyes in a silent plea. Relenting he straightened his arm and allowed her to toll back the cloth and reveal the phoenix design that was etched into his skin in brilliant reds and yellows, outlined by black.

"Who did this to you?" She questioned.

"I don't know his name." He answered. She studied the design more closely, running her thumb over it's surface.

"It looks like a tattoo. Was it a spell?"

"No."

"A branding potion?"

"No."

"Then what kind of magic is it?" She asked, perplexed.

"It's not magic at all." Her eyebrows shot nearly into her hairline at this revelation.

"This is a muggle tattoo? But Severus, those are painful, there were so many magical ways that you could have done the same without hurting yourself."

"I know." He said.

"You knew? But why would you choose pain, you're not punishing yourself are you?"

"Hermione there was a time when I wasn't the _'spy for Dumbledore death eater.'_ At one point I was the real thing." He tried to reason.

"But you've made up for that a long time ago. You can't punish yourself for it now."

"I'm not trying to. It's just a reminder. Look, you weren't there when my wrist bled form the mark and you weren't there when my forearm bled from the phoenix so don't worry about it now." He said, pulling her back to him and kissing her neck. She leaned into his ministrations and moaned softly until he worked his way to her lips and taunted them with his tongue.

She opened for him and he explored her mouth, causing her to groan before she moved her tongue against his passionately. When they broke apart to breath he watched the rosy flush in her cheeks and the way her chest rose and fell with every breath.

"What have you done since you got back?" She asked.

"Taught, worked in my potions lab and punished wayward pupils. Not much has changed since I taught you except I am now minus the missions against the Dark Lord."

"You haven't visited anyone? Surely there must be people that you want to see?" he shook his head in an uncaring way.

"The other professors at Hogwarts are the only ones who treat me fairly; I have no need to visit those who wouldn't have me." He said.

"I'm sure someone must want to visit with you." He frowned in thought and shook his head.

"Besides Lupin there really isn't anyone who's glad to see me." He shrugged while saying this to her.

"Are you still delivering him wolfs bane?" She asked cheekily, leaning in and taking her turn to kiss his jaw line. He let a deep masculine growl escape him before he shifted and rolle her over so that he was standing bent over her and she was beneath him on the cot. She gave a girlish squeal when he picked her up and began carrying her towards his bedroom.

"Don't you want to stay and talk?" She asked, her voice clouded with lust.

"Too much foreplay." He growled. "I think it's time you got what you really came for." She giggled when, not for the first time, he dropped her with a satisfying bounce onto his bed and persuaded her with kisses into a laying position until they were both comfortably on the bed.

"This is what you want, isn't it?" he asked, his hands already fumbling with the buttons on her shirt.

"Yes." She breathed, her hands worrying the buttons of his robe. When she reached for her wand he stopped her gently.

"No magic." He whispered, she nodded.

"All right then.


	7. Chapter 7

**December Underground**

**VII**

'_Part your lips a bit more_

_I'll swallow your fears,_

_I will show you how_

_all the bite marks impress_

_a need to be here…'_

_-Kiss and Control_

He made short an impatient work of her shirt, ripping it along the buttons after managing to clumsily undo the first two. She seemed reluctant to harm his characteristic billowing robes and somehow managed to undo all of the buttons by hand. By the time she had done this he had directed her into sitting so that he could remove her bra.

She shivered with the cold of the dungeon and Severus paused to shrug out of his long robes and underlying black shirt all the while admiring the way her nipples had peaked.

When the shirt was removed and they were both naked form the waist up he returned his mouth to hers in a fierce, lust filled kiss. She whimpered into his mouth but returned his vigor, her hands exploring the expanse of his back while his cupped her breasts, thumbs stroking the rosy peaks. At this point his pants were becoming uncomfortably tight.

As if she sensed this her nimble fingers left his back and began undoing the button on his trousers, sparing him the briefest of purposeful contact.

He groaned hungrily into her mouth before he broke from her lips to travel kisses down her neck and mark her collarbone with his teeth. She gasped a quick intake of astonished breath and her hands momentarily paused in their task.

"I'd forgotten." She moaned, arching into his embrace as he traveled lower still and took one of her pert nipples into his mouth. He managed to growl to show that he was listening before moving his own hands to complete the task she had begun. When he released himself from the confines of his trousers he threw them unceremoniously to the floor. Now only his silk boxers, her skirt and her panties kept them apart. "I'd forgot," She repeated, moaning as he moved to her other nipple, "I'd forgotten about the charm." This time his growl was from agitation at the thought of leaving her but none the less he pulled away from her and leapt off of the bed to rummage through the pockets of his discarded robes. After seconds that felt like an eternity he finally produced the magical instrument from the robes' deep pockets.

She was gazing at him wantonly from his bed and he quickly returned to her, tapping her abdomen with the wand he's had for few precious months and muttering the incantation, he then stretched to place the wood and heartstring rod onto the bedside table.

His attention now on her skirt he considered simply hiking it up to her waist before he changed his mind and set to working his deft fingers at the fasten.

"Hurry." She groaned, moving to push his hands out of the way and do it herself. He batted her fingers away and returned to the task.

"Good things come to those who wait." He teased, knowing that if he didn't hurry he would come in his boxers.

When the skirt was finally undone he took both it and her sodden panties down to her ankles in one swift movement. As he worked to detangle them her feet seemed to be working against him. He took time to study where her parted legs exposed a patch of curly hair and her glistening entrance.

Stepping out of his own underwear he finally released his pulsating member and returned to his rightful spot over her delicious figure. Slowly he lowered his weight onto her and poised himself at her entrance which was hot and wet against him.

"Are you sure you know what you're getting yourself into?" He breathed, flicking his tongue over her ear.

"Yes." She moaned, trying to arch against him but he drew back enough to remain just in contact. "Hurry."

"Ask nicely." He teased, leaving a love mark on her neck by sucking the flesh with his lips.

"Please." She groaned voice filled with want, her nails digging into his back, trying to draw him closer. "Please, now."

With a hiss he gripped her hips hard and slid into her. They both froze with the sensation of agonizing anticipation and partial satisfaction as he waited for her walls to adjust. She threw her head back, face transformed by the need for more.

When she finally clamped against him he moved one hand next to her head to steady himself and began to move inside her, partially withdrawing and then thrusting back into her in a slow rhythmic pace that didn't match their heavy breathing in the slightest. She whimpered as he moved deep within her before she managed to whisper faster and move her body in unison with his, matching his thrusts with her own.

"More." She pleaded and his movements became frenzied as their combined breathing became uncontrollable, him groaning with every thrust and her mewling as he moved inside her.

Suddenly, as if a switch had been thrown her body jolted and her hips went wild as her walls spasmed around him while she orgasmed. His own release triggered as his frenzied thrusts exploded into uncontrollable jerk as he emptied inside her. She shouted something he didn't comprehend and he yelled her name along with nonsensical phrases before he was pushed over the final edge and collapsed onto her, simultaneously going limp within her core.

She moaned at his added weight and he graciously rolled off of her so that she could breathe. Almost instantly she turned and rested her head on his outstretched arm, watching his unreadable coal eyes with satisfaction and curiosity.


	8. Chapter 8

**December Underground**

**VIII**

'_What a shame,_

_such a sad disgrace_

_such a pretty face_

_but she's not regretful.'_

_-The Killing Lights._

"Don't look so pleased. I got what I schemed for, not the other way around."

A wry smile curved her lips and her eyes seemed to sparkle at his bland joke. Without thinking he picked his wand up off of the nightstand an flicked it at the blankets they were laying on so that they covered them instead.

"Tell yourself that if you must but I sought you out, not vice versa." He raised a brow at her and she chuckled before moving to lay her head on his chest.

"You know what will happen when people find out." He said, all seriousness etched in his voice. She listened to him speak through his chest and he imagined the way his voice must sound, rumbling deep inside him. When she didn't respond he continued. "I expect you'll receive the silent treatment for months, not a week."

"Why's that?" She asked. He knew that she already knew the answer but gave it to her anyway.

"Because, disliked as I was then, I was not the murderer of Albus Dumbledore or someone who appeared to have bought off the ministry only to snub it in their faces by teaching their spawn at Hogwarts. People think I'm corrupting their children with dark magic you know. They think I'm teaching them to follow me as the new Dark Lord." She looked stricken as if someone had slapped her, apparently she had not known.

"Surely not. I don't remember reading that in the prophet."

"The prophet didn't report that much, they don't mention me if possible but if they do it is to dribble on about elaborate theories of me, the minister, imperius, and polyjuice potion." He drawled, absentmindedly bringing his hand up to stroke her hair.

"Polyjuice potion?" She asked, perplexed/

"They think that I made an attempt to control the minister at my hearing. Since I am a potions master they also concluded that I attempted to use polyjuice potion to make me the minister and the minister myself so that I could pronounce myself innocent while holding Scrimgeour under the imperius. It's not printed directly but if you read through the lines it's there. I'm fairly sure that Rita Skeeter's behind the entire thing."

She remained silent, apparently dumbstruck until she finally same to her senses.

"But if the prophet has printed that drivel and nothing about you instructing the dark arts then how do you know that's what parents are assuming?" She questions.

"I've received plenty of howlers."

She made an angry sound by blowing air through her teeth. "I'll be known as the mistress of the next Dark Lord probably hours after someone sees us together." She drawled, his sarcasm had definitely worn off on her.

"They'll all marvel over what a sad disgrace it ism one of the golden trio seduced by the bat of the dungeons." He curled her hair around his finger perhaps a little too tightly and she pinched his side in return.

"It would be so much easier if they knew the truth about what happened, about how much you did for them."

He snorted. It was nowhere near possible for him to confess his story to the world; he would not go through all of the trouble of arguing with people who wanted to know the truth but would then be unwilling to accept what he told them. No one would believe him anyway, the only exception was the witch resting on his chest, and only she knew the full story about the torture. He had told Minerva that he went into hiding to let things die down before he attempted to return for trial. She had lapped the story up like a cat does milk, typical.

"What?" She asked, apparently affronted.

"People will not believe the story, especially those from your generation who were practically raised to hate me from their own time at Hogwarts.

"Well that's entirely your own fault." His lip curled but he did not pursue the subject of his teaching strategies because it would only lead to further argument.

"The point about this information is not that is would make my life easier, it is not something that I wish to reveal." He said, quite sincerely. She turned her head so that her cinnamon eyes stared directly into his.

"Don't you think that you deserve a little peace Severus?"

He sighed and continued stroking her hair, occasionally stopping to lift one of the locks so that he could release it and watch it fall.

"Hermione, the torture that those death eaters put me through was terrible, three years worth is more than your mind can imagine and I doubt, understand. Yes, I know you've been cruciod." He said quickly, reading the expression on her face. "But the two are not the same, you were never am imprisoned object, you were only actually imprisoned for a few scarce hours. If I told the public what those death eaters had done to me they would not respect and adore me like Potter, they'd pity me. I don't need to have the pity of wizards and witches wherever I go, I'm better off with the scorn, furtive glances and suspicious whispers. A few years and those will fade, heroism lasts for eternity, if I let them forget about me and my seemingly dark ambitions I will get peace in the end. I'm better off misunderstood than scrutinized by the public eye." He tried to explain, staring deep into her eyes and willing her to understand.

After a long silence she nodded and he ceased to play with her hair. He took a moment to enjoy the new blanket of silence that fell over them before she sat up and cast him a nervous glance.

"Where they hurt you…" She began, as if she immediately expected him to refuse. "Will you show me?"


	9. Chapter 9

**December Underground **

**IX**

'_Just give me your hands_

_and I'll let you feel the wounds,_

_they put in me.'_

_-37mm_

"Madame Pomfery's mended most of it already, and re-grown some of which she couldn't fix." He explained, hoping in one way that this would deter her but in another stranger way that it would encourage her more.

"Couldn't fix?" She asked numbly. "Why couldn't she fix it?

"Old wounds." He explained. "They'd healed and been torn again and again." He hesitated before holding out his hand in front of her. She glanced into his eyes as if for permission before pulling it towards her with nimble fingers. He watched as she traced thin white scars that completed perfect circumferences, joining their own ends to make it as if he were wearing rings. She examined each finger to confirm that they were all the same, tracing the one on his thumb last before giving him back his hand.

"She re-grew all of your fingers?" He nodded.

"The other hand is the same." He said simply.

"But why?" She asked, thoroughly shocked.

"I couldn't use them, after years of bamboo torture they were beyond repair. She gave me replacements."

"Are they uncomfortable?" She was worried and the slightest of smiles curved his lips.

"They are exactly like the old ones, just whole."

"But limps and appendages can't be re-grown, I only just remembered, it said so in _Healing Magical Maladies by Magic,_ any limb or appendage lost by magic can't be re-grown. That's why Mad Eye Moody had a wooden leg.

"You're assuming that I lost my fingers by magic." He pointed out. Her eyebrows rose.

"Surely not! She- she cut them off? With- with-"

"A knife." He finished for her. "After that it was wand work and potion doses for about a month until they had regenerated.

"You went a month without fingers! But how did you do anything?"

"Pomfery did one hand at a time, I had some limited ability but I still couldn't do much with the damaged hand. The bamboo wounds still hurt even though they'd healed."

She stared at him open mouth and completely shocked, unable to speak.

"Enough of this." He said hastily, "It's upsetting you."

She shook her head.

"No, I still want to know."

"You're upsetting yourself, just forget it." He said dismissively, moving to sit up and go fetch his clothes from the floor. She placed a hand on his chest and he paused.

"Please, Severus, I need to know, I won't be able to let it go until I know what they did to you."

"Why do you need to know? Do you need to know how they reduced me to an anti social shut in? I mean, for Merlin's sakes, I don't even like sunlight anymore! I used to be able to go outside and breathe fresh air but now it just reminds me that I didn't have it and then I remember what they put me though. Do you want to know how they broke me?" He hissed, why would she put him through any of it? How could she ask him to relive it all?

"No." She whispered, shaking her head against his shoulder. "No, I want to know exactly how they failed to break you." He stared into her eyes, dumbfounded before he raise d her chin with a finger and drew her lips to his.

This kiss was not the raw passion of before but a gentle, lingering embrace that were all the words of love and devotion that he had always burned to convey but had never been able to speak.

When they broke apart he took her hand and guided it to the small dent in his skull, buried beneath his hair. Then he let her fingers trace the circular burn patterns on his stomach, from there he moved to the whip lash scars on his back, to the ring like scars that also surrounded his toes. He showed her vivid memories of when his nose had been broken, his arm snapped, and his hair pulled out in great chunks. He let her feel the lump on his ribs where Pomfery had mended the back together and showed her the scar on his leg where they had burned him with a branding iron, forming a capital T of white shining scar tissue. He didn't need to explain that it stood for traitor.

When he was done she was crying silent tears and contemplating him as if she didn't understand.

"After all of that, how could you not want people to know what you went through? That was the price they made you pay for helping defeat Voldemort, what you went through was what it cost to save their lives."

"They would not understand." He said calmly.

"Why not?"

He wiped a tear away with is thumb. She was too pretty to cry.

"Because, anyone would expect a man like me to be insane after an experience like that, I will not tell everyone I meet what kept me from truly slipping into madness.

"Then what kept you sane? Over that entire three year period, what kept you from giving in to madness?" She questioned, concern flashing in her eyes. He gave her a deep, penetrating stare, trying to express to her that he meant what he was about to say with every fiber of his will, body and soul.

"You."


	10. Chapter 10

**December Underground**

**X**

'_Walked into our world and _

_made horrible sounds._

_I can still hear them today._

_strangely they sound beautiful now,_

_though they outcast my love.'_

_-Endlessly She Said._

This time she kissed him, bringing her lips to his in a silent question of forgiveness and without a word he knew that he would never mention Charlie Weasley again for as long as he lived.

She was still crying when they broke apart and he pulled her to him, cradling her head against his shoulder.

"Shh…" He shushed, trying to comfort her out of her tears while stroking her hair. Everything she said before about redemption and respect, how had tried to persuade him by telling him that he deserved it were now, strangely, some of the most beautiful words he had ever heard. It meant that she truly cared, not that she sought information or gossip for others.

"You're more than I expected." She said, finally bringing her tears to an end. He wasn't sure what this comment was supposed to mean and furrowed his brows.

"Did you not expect me to fight for my own life by remembering what kept me happiest?" He asked with no trace of sarcasm or scorn in his voice, only mild curiosity.

"No." She said as if to immediately correct herself. "I mean that your more than I expected for myself, I didn't envision that I would end up with a man who would endure three years of torture just to see me again. It's no wonder Charlie upset you so much."

He digested these words with a strange sense of elation and at the same time remorse.

"Hermione." He said, trying to find a way to convey what he really meant. "I'll understand if you don't stay." Her face took on a bewildered expression.

"Why would you say such a thing?"

"Because you need someone who's your own age, someone who's whole and won't bring the hate of the wizarding population onto your shoulders." He couldn't keep her with him, she was too precious for what she would be forced to endure.

"No." She said her voice firm.

"Hermione, just think about it-"

"Don't even start." She interrupted, pressing a chaste kiss onto his lips. "I've thought about it long and hard before I came to you and you are all that I need."

"Hermione, you deserve someone who will bring a happy response from the wizarding public, not scorn like I enjoy."

"Severus, you are more than I deserve, not less, who else would have endured torture for my sake? Just to see me again?" She asked him. He didn't answer her but regarded her expression studiously. How on earth did he manage to end up with someone like her?" After all the evil deeds and double crossings he'd committed in his life he couldn't understand how he could be gifted with her devotion.

There was no way that he could let it be brought upon her, the disgusted looks, waspish whispers and contemptuous accusations. Not when she was willing to endure it all just for the sake of being by his side.

"I'll do it then." He said softly, she frowned slightly, unsure of what he was saying.

"Do what?" She asked, perplexed. He wondered if he hadn't gone insane after all. Was he really about to agree to what he'd explicitly refused to do scarcely a half hour before? What hold did she have on him?

"I'll tell them what really happened. I'll explain why I was missing for three years, I'll let the public know." Even as he promised it he dreaded doing it, but he would, he couldn't go back on the word he'd just given, not now.

"Are you sure?" She asked, her face showing no sign of eager anticipation or excitement. She was leaving it up to him; it was entirely his decision to make.

"Yes." He answered truthfully. She kissed him gently on the cheek and then lovingly on his lips.

"Thank you." She whispered, resting her head beneath his. He tucked her crown into the crook of his neck and inhaled a deep breath of her scent, knowing that they would have to avoid being seen together until after the interviews were over.

He would contact the paper tomorrow; they could send any reporter they liked as long as it wasn't Rita Skeeter. Anyone but her would do. The sooner it was done the better.

"Severus?" Hermione asked her voice drowsy. He broke out of his train of thought and realized that she was nearly falling asleep.

"Yes?" He asked, listening to the rhythm of her breathing.

"Can I stay here with you until morning?" He smiled because no matter how clever she was she never took the liberty to assume her presence was welcome. She should have known as soon as he'd carried her to the bed that she was welcome to stay the night.

"You needn't have asked." He assured her. She sighed contently against him and he realized just how innocent she was.

"Hermione?" He said, breaking the silence between them once more. He hoped that she hadn't fallen asleep yet because he needed to tell her, suddenly he understood that she shouldn't have to assume.

"Yes?" She mumbled, showing that despite the onslaught of slumber she was still listening.

"I love you." He finally admitted, and even though she'd fallen asleep as he'd said it, he knew that she'd heard.

_Fin._


	11. Author's Message

Hello everyone, this is my short thank you chapter.

First, I would like to say that I based this story on the album December underground by A.F.I. It is a great album by the way, unless you don't like that type of music, but if you do it's definitely worth a listen.

I'm not really sure why I wrote this, I certainly didn't plan to, I was just listening to the CD one day and the words kind of told me things, and before long I had the entire story planned out an had arrange for quotes from certain songs to make a story. I think there were only 2 out of 12 songs that I didn't use, I could have but it would have been too hard to make them fit.

I also wanted to say that although I wish J. K. Rowling's stuff was mine, it is unfortunately not; I will however say that she is a genius in the very least.

Please, don't report me for the graphic content, I apologize if I offended anyone, but the M rating should be a warning, again if I offended you I'm sorry, but I didn't force you to read it.

Lastly, thank you to anyone who took the time to read this story, and an extra thanks to anyone who took the time to review it, which is something that I should do more often myself because I know how happy it makes writers feel.

Hope you enjoyed the story overall and thanks again.

-Darth Depravious.


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